Happy Drabbles
by BlueQueenBee
Summary: Random Drabbles. HollyCentric, maybe.
1. Blue or Brown

**Blue or Brown?**

The majority of the bets were on blue. Some of the more adventurous put their money on brown. Today was the day. The entire Police Plaza was eerily quiet. They knew it was female, but that was all Foaly would spill and no one was going to bother the Major about it.

It was nearing the end of shift. No one was packing up their desks, no last minute reports were flooding the Commander's inbox. Trouble found this disconcerting, but welcomed it anyway. He was waiting just as apt as the rest of them; he had put his gold on brown, favoring the idea of the baby looking like its mother.

At exactly 5pm, Foaly made the public announcement. After a fairly easy labor, Major Holly Fowl had given birth to a 4 lb, perfectly healthy baby girl. The babe's hair was dark, still too thin to discern a final color. Her light mocha cheeks were cherubic; her slightly pointed ears still tinged pink. No1 giggled as he examined the baby.

"Poor Foaly," the little demon said.

Artemis looked at No1 curiously while still beaming at his new daughter. "Foaly?" he asked. "What is wrong with the pony boy?"

"Oh well, nothing, yet…" was the cautious reply.

Back at the LEP, Foaly had actually locked down the Ops Booth in self preservation.

"You sneaky little horse-breathed sneak! I'm losing a lot of gold because of this. I may take it out of your budget," Trouble was furiously banging on the door in attempt to reach the centaur.

The rest of the office was starting to catch on. 'Something was wrong,' they all thought as they looked at the images covering every screen in the building. It was a little baby girl, alright, but the eyes… There is no way…

Foaly quietly said over the speakers, "Holly's parents both had green eyes…"


	2. The Contact

She was really not in the mood for this.

As another moron tried to get her number at the bar, she simply glared, ordering another drink. She could make the tall ape pay for it, but she didn't care to give him the satisfaction of thinking she owed him something.

She scanned the crowd. She wasn't here for pleasure, and as she soaked in the atmosphere, she decided she would quite prefer to not come back.

The place was dark and damp, the crummy sound system allowed for echoes in parts of the club, especially around the bar. The patrons were mostly unwashed and wasted beyond belief; they were attempting to move to the beat of the music, but failing miserably.

Juliet Butler was slightly pissed. Artemis had seemingly sent her on a wild goose chase. She was here to locate a client, or so he had told her. She did not see anyone in this room that Artemis Fowl the Second would willingly ever speak with, let alone try to persuade into a business deal.

She chewed on her straw, glaring at each passing party goer.

She wanted to be having fun, really drinking, really dancing. But no, she was here, in a dingy club in Dublin, on a Friday night.

Then she saw something unusual. Someone quite small making his way through the crowd.

As he moved to the bar, she realized who it was. She smiled. Arty had tricked her, knowing she would love to joke around with the little man again.

She quietly moved from her seat, heading towards him with almost no sound.

She brought a small device to his neck and whispered, "Gottcha." The little man nearly died from shock. He tried to bolt, but she had a shockingly good grip on his forearm.

As he turned to the woman holding the weapon to his head, he started to laugh.

"Hello Juliet. I take it Arty boy sent you?"

"Hey there, smelly," she replied to Mulch, grinning from ear to ear, "and yep, he sent me."

"Lovely, now could you take that pen off my neck?"  
> <p>


	3. Control

**Control**

He liked control. He considered himself to have had control of his life; he liked it that way.

He did not want other people to dictate or decide anything for him. He considered himself intelligent enough to know what was best, so why bother allowing others to think for him?

He shivered as he realized that he was no longer in control. He could not control what words came out of his mouth, what thoughts wandered through his head or what he did.

He wanted his control back, but he knew that between the actions he'd made and the feelings he knew would never go away completely, total control was gone forever.

**I am specifically thinking of two "influences" that are harboring this control.**

**Bonus points for who can name them.**


	4. Never Gonna Leave This Bed

**Songfi- esque. **

**Inspired by**  
><strong>Never Gonna Leave This Bed- Maroon 5<strong>

All that he could see were snapshots and seconds-long film reels formulated by his memory and replaying behind his closed eyes. He took a deep breath of her scent, burying his head in her dark hair.

He tried so hard to stay away from her. They knew the risks, they knew it was dangerous and complicated. But when she pouted her big, sad, familiar eyes up at him, there was nothing he wouldn't do to make her happy.

He was always so worried that something would happen to her. She risked her life everyday she went to work, and so did he. He spent half of their time apart checking on her.

She was the only person who could make him forget all of the troubles of the world. She was so enchanting that he could think of nothing but her when she was around.

They had almost given up, once. The stress of making a life between two worlds, raising a family and their own stubborn personalities had driven her to walk out on arguments a little more often than normal and once he didn't chase her.

The memory will haunt him for the rest of his life. For some stupid reason, he had just let her walk out the door, out into the night, and hadn't followed.

She didn't speak to him for a week. She slept in the guest room. Finally he collapsed crying on the nursery floor as he watched her hold his son. They rarely spoke of that week, but he couldn't forgive himself.

With his arms around her, he felt content. He could relax and enjoy life when she was near. Her face was angelic, in his eyes. It was the face of their daughter, the eyes he saw in the mirror, the taste he could never forget.

He would do whatever it took to ensure that she never felt the need to walk away again. He often woke up in a cold sweat from dreaming that she was gone. One night, he shouted her name out loud, waking her up. Startled, she shook him asking what was wrong. It had been over three years since she had left and she never knew how much it haunted him. Finally, he explained his fears and swore that he would never make her leave, and he would never himself leave her.

**A/N: I don't own the song.**

Could be at least 3 different couple combos, but I wrote it w AH in mind.


	5. Running

The street lights twinkled above her as she walked through the city. The sounds and rhythms that make up the neighborhood's heartbeat seemed muted in the early morning.

The full moon lit up the skyline like an eerie guardian, seeing almost everything. Of course, some things were never meant to be seen by anything, even the glorious moon.

She was one of those things and she knew it. As she pulled her hat down around her ears, black hair curling around her brown eyes and pointy features, she glanced up at the moon. It called to her, wanting to be a part of her. She longed to oblige, but that was a sacrifice she had been forced to make when she decided to run.

Her eyes blazed with fury when she thought of her captors. They had taken her when she was barely a week old; taken her away from her mother, calling the woman a traitor. They kept her from her father, calling him evil. They told her that she was a freak, a creature that was never supposed to exist. They lied, and she knew it. She could see it in their eyes, although she never knew how. There had been others like her, long ago.

So she ran. She was barely a teenager, but being the product of prodigies had its perks. Over the years she had gleaned every trace of usable information from her guards and teachers, never letting them know what she was planning.

Now she was out. She would find her parents; she would avenge her family. Everyone on the earth and below it would know it was a mistake to treat her like a monster.


	6. What She Wants

**Naughty fic, kinda. Let me know what you guys think.**

**Song fic based on the lyrics of Papa Roach's "I almost told you I loved you."**

**What She Wants.**

Her breath was coming in bursts. Sweat dripped from her brow, running in her eyes and down her cheeks. Somehow, she still had her lingerie on. The black and red lace demi bra and matching hipster panties did amazing things to her curves, she had to admit. Somehow, she felt more powerful in this scant outfit than she did in her shimmer suit.

She ran her finely manicured nails down his back, watching his eyes light up. Blue sparks played out as she moved her hand, healing the wounds but allowing the sharp pain to render its pleasure. His back arched into her, giving her quite a wonderful view of his finely tuned muscles. In the dim light of his bedroom she could see and count an array of scars that no amount of magic could heal. Somehow, adding her marks to those excited her.

They treated sex like a competition. Who could hold out longest, who could scream loudest, who could make the other beg, who could make the other bleed.

He decided that he had waited long enough. He flipped her over, landing with his legs around her hips, keeping her firmly pinned down. She was fast and graceful, but he was strong. She struggled, cursing, but her curses became moans as he began to bite in a line down her neck, chest and stomach.

When he was satisfied that she wouldn't struggle against him anymore, pulled her thong off, tossing it onto the already clothing-littered floor. He could see her eyes flash expectantly.

He continued the seemingly torturous treatment of her skin and muscles, biting, pulling, pinching until she considered kicking him off the bed and just taking care of things herself.

When he realized that she couldn't handle anymore teasing, he lowered himself to her, removing her bra, touching everything he could reach.

They moved together for what seemed like ages. Blood, sweat and screams filled her senses until she exploded.

He kissed her cheek, moving down her jawline, towards her lips. Here, it seemed, was the only taboo he could find. She refused to let him kiss her lips, ever.

As their breathing slowed, they untangled, finally situating themselves for sleep.

She lay on her back, watching her chest rise and fall, holding back tears. She closed her eyes, imagining the arms she dreamed were holding her. After a few moments of fantasy, she smiled, turning toward the man by her side. When she opened her eyes, relaxed enough in the haze of the moment that she began to say the words she wanted to speak so badly. However, her stomach dropped, as it always did when she wanted to be seeing the gaze she saw every morning in the mirror and instead saw a violet gleam staring back at her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I own nothing. I really want the lingerie set, though.  
>No, it's not quite smut. I'm sorry. It's supposed to be dark and kinda cryptic. Please let me know if I succeeded. :) <strong>


	7. Robbery

**FLUFF.  
>Also, exactly 100 words. I'm impressed with myself. :)<strong>

**Robbery**

Artemis Fowl II was familiar with theft. He'd rebuilt an empire on his skills as a con artist and thief. He was not used to being the one stolen from.

It took him years to realize what had been taken, but never did he doubt the culprit's identity. He had suspected the disappearance, but had never been able to confirm his ideas.

Then, after one particularly stressful mission, she had come to see him. She relaxed; mostly resting and reading. He would never be able to pin point the exact moment he realized it, but she had stolen his heart.


	8. Reprobate

She stretched her neck, forth and back, right and left, back and forth. She repeated the actions for several minutes until she could see straight once again.

She would be in trouble once she went back to base, but she didn't care. Foaly knew better than to stop her. And no one would push past him on this. Everyone knew that she needed some time alone.

As she flew above the clouds, she breathed in the clean air above the Atlantic coastline. She didn't know, nor did she really care, if she was near a human settlement.

Thoughts flew through her mind, almost as quickly as the clouds below her flew past.

Why did she do it? She wondered for the hundredth time.

She shook her head, then her shoulders and arms, in attempt to erase the tension they had developed while she was contemplating. She did know what made her act so rashly.

The day had started out normally, or as normally as the days of a Major in Section 8 could start.

She was at the headquarters by 7, in the gym. She was at her desk by 8, as she always was. She dealt with paperwork for most of the morning, until a message popped up on her com screen, outlined in red- emergency.

She pulled open the message, and had to read it twice…there was no way this information could be correct. He would never do something so…ruthless.

Cold had filled her veins. She felt a pang of betrayal that she had never experienced in her life. She sat, staring at the screen, hoping someone would smack her upside the head and tell her she was daydreaming.

She held this thought until her communicator blinked. She looked down and saw Foaly's name on the screen. She answered, hoping that he could answer the questions she couldn't even ask.

"What…?" she began, but Foaly cut her off. "I'm sorry, Holly, but it's true. The cameras inside and outside of the building put him at the scene."  
>"How many?" she inquired, with a robot-like voice. If Foaly was telling her it was true, than it must be so.<p>

"Four dead, twenty-odd wounded."

If the com hadn't been already settled in her ear, she would have dropped it.

"No!" she screeched, surprising herself. She didn't know how much she cared until that moment…how much she had grown to care about that little man. How much she had grown to trust him.

"Holly, please," Foaly's voice nearly broke through the speaker, but she knew it wasn't because the technology was faulty. He, too, was shocked by the turn of events.

"Holly, it's over, it's too late. There's nothing you can do now."

Those were not words she wanted to hear.

She stormed out of the office, almost blind to her surroundings. She knew exactly where she was going, and she didn't care how she would get there. She couldn't be here, underground, while the authorities took away the remains of one of her closest allies and sometimes friend.

Tears streamed down her face as she recalled the events of the day. She hadn't stopped flying since she'd reached the surface. While she knew where she was headed, she didn't seem to be in a hurry to get there.

Finally, long after sundown, she settled on a perch outside a window she knew to belong to the only person who could console her.

As he had been waiting, Artemis opened the doors and motioned her inside. She knew that, by now, he had heard the news.

She landed in his study, not caring what damage the wings she wore caused to his things. He didn't appear to care, either, which was a relief.

He stood there, and let her get a hold of herself. She had to respect him for that.

Finally, she yanked her helmet off and threw it across the room. It hit a bookshelf, knocking its contents to the floor. Neither of them bothered to look at it.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally. "I'm so sorry, Holly."  
>She worked up the nerve to look at him and saw it in his eyes, he really was sorry. He had lost a friend, or as close as Artemis could count another being as a friend.<p>

She went to him, and he knelt down to hug her. At this point, hugging wasn't even odd to them. It would have been stranger if either had reacted any other way.

Once she had her breath under control, she put a voice to the question she had been thinking all day.

"Why did he do it? Why did he try to get away with robbing a Haven Bank? He knew he wouldn't get away with it."  
>Artemis could only look at her.<p>

"I don't know, Holly. I don't know why Mulch did it."

Blah, she ends up in A's arms


End file.
